These ’82 cookbooks have yet to go stale

Not long ago, an editor reminded me, “A cookbook can’t be everything to everyone.” Has this always been true?

My mind immediately flashed back to 1982’s “The Silver Palate Cookbook,” by Julee Rosso and Sheila Lukins. It was a comprehensive source for a generation of home cooks in America. More than three decades after it was published, I wondered whether it, and a few other influential cookbooks of that same year, would hold up in a drastically different culinary era.

According to the owner of New York’s Bonnie Slotnick Cookbooks, where she sells rare and vintage titles, a lot of people still use “The Silver Palate” as a basic cookbook. “They don’t have Fannie Farmer, ‘Joy of Cooking’ or Betty Crocker,” Slotnick says. “Not only do people continue raving about it, but they continue to buy . . . copies to replace the ones they’ve worn out, and they’re buying it for their children.” The first printing of “The Silver Palate Cookbook” was 37,000 copies; that tally now stands at 2.7 million and includes the 25th anniversary edition.

Named for the gourmet takeout and catering shop the authors opened in 1977 on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, the cookbook combined recipes with Lukins’s whimsical drawings, select quotes from notable figures, proposed menus and stand-alone technical notes. Looking at chapter headings such as “The Charcuterie Board,” “Chicken Every Which Way,” “Soup’s On” and “Piping Hot Pasta,” which has a pasta glossary to help you choose the best noodle to suit your purposes, one realizes an entire cookbook could be built from any one of those concepts.

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“It’s a nice range of things — it’s not all chicken or Italian,” Slotnick says. “Books like that are harder to find; books today are more specialized.”

Another one I remember seeing on the kitchen counter as a kid was also published in ’82. It featured a smiling blonde on the cover who looked like a cross between a Disney princess and a Stepford wife. She stood at the end of a long, beautifully set table, and near her head, it read “Entertaining: Martha Stewart.”

It was Stewart’s first cookbook. In it, the ex-model and chic Connecticut caterer delivered a guide to hosting and cooking for parties of all sizes. The gig panned out nicely for her, and it all seems to have come full circle. Last year, her latest television project, “Martha & Snoop’s Potluck Dinner Party,” debuted on VH1. (Season 2 premieres Oct. 16.) “Entertaining” left no stone or place card unturned; an aspiring host could find themed menus and inspiration to make even a dinner for two a little more festive.

“I had been running a successful, large catering business in Westport, Conn., and I realized that unless I recorded my experiences — the recipes I made, the parties I organized, the visuals that I created . . . in some way, the ephemeral nature of catering would just make everything disappear,” Stewart says. “So, I decided I would write a book. And entertaining was a subject that I knew I needed to know more about, and I knew all my friends needed to know more about.

“As a result, it was the perfect book at the perfect time,” she says. “It is still in print, 35 years later, and it still offers a lot of sound, sage advice, which I’m grateful for.” When asked whether she would change anything if she were writing the book today, Stewart says only: “Maybe my hairdo on the cover!”

While Stewart’s cookbook was all about creating for special occasions, “The Silver Palate” was informal and more everyday. Big, clean flavors were “very understandable to the American palate,” Rosso says, who has run a bed-and-breakfast in Saugatuck, Michigan, since 1991.

“We weren’t very sophisticated about food, and we liked things that shout,” she says. (Lukins died in 2009.) But unlike latter-day gastronomy tomes that fetishized chefs and restaurants, both books offered recipes that home cooks could make — as long as they could locate and afford the watercress (”exotic!” Rosso recalls), raspberry vinegar and Belgian endive as a serving vessel; we have Martha Stewart to thank for that.

Vegetable cookery and the hundreds of titles it has generated in the past few years would appear to address a uniquely modern interest, but “The Victory Garden Cookbook” of ’82 proves otherwise. With it, author Marian Morash made a breakthrough. Her husband, Russell Morash, produced public television programs in Boston and she had worked on Julia Child’s show. When “The Victory Garden,” one of Russell’s projects, aired in 1975, viewers tuned in to learn about how and what to plant from host Jim Crockett. And then they phoned in to the station because once he had taught them how to grow leeks, they didn’t know what to do with them.

Russell asked Marian whether she could provide such culinary advice. So, in 1979, she became a regular correspondent on the show and was then approached by Knopf editor Judith Jones, who had published Child’s books along with those by Madhur Jaffrey, Edna Lewis and Claudia Roden.

Arranged alphabetically from asparagus to zucchini — “See, Squash (Summer)” — and clocking in at more than 800 recipes, the “Victory Garden” book has instructions for growing, harvesting, storing, buying and cooking each vegetable. Multiple preparations are detailed, and suggested adaptations provided. This is not a vegetarian tome, however. Salsify is simmered with veal for a hearty ragout or, when left over, pan-fried with turkey for a fast hash. It’s not just that Morash dared to go where others didn’t by featuring turnips and rutabaga, it’s that she also put her star material into creative, resourceful situations.

Before online recipe-sharing communities existed, these three cookbooks were social connectors. “We all know people who served Chicken Marbella for every party they ever had,” Slotnick says of “The Silver Palate’s” best-known dish. My own mother’s copy is scrawled with commentary; she noted her own feedback — “yummy,” “do not repeat,” “too sweet,” “I liked,” “no good” — as well as that of her peers. Cathy recommended a chunky apple-walnut cake, while Barbara poo-pooed a chilled shrimp soup and endorsed the French Potato Salad With Bacon.

The friend my mother relied on most in this vein was Susan Kessler, the former food and decorating editor of New Woman magazine, who stands by, and continues to cook, the Curried-Squash Apple Soup, which spawned infinite knockoffs, and the Pasta Puttanesca. Equally well versed with recipes in “Entertaining,” Kessler still makes Stewart’s string bean salad with walnut sauce.

And when I reached Morash at her summer house in Nantucket, Mass., she had just put up a batch of tomato freezer sauce from “The Victory Garden Cookbook.” She says fans stop her on the street to tell her they still cook from it. There have been 315,834 copies sold — not as many as those other two books, but it’s not small potatoes.

“I always had that cookbook on my desk when I worked in publishing,” Slotnick says. “It’s very personal.” Not one for gardening, she appreciates the pages for their words. “It’s the kind of book that you can just read. And I do more reading of cookbooks than cooking, and so do a lot of my customers.”

When asked whether, in hindsight, Morash would make any changes, she replied, “The only thing I would do if I was going to do it again now is to reduce the amount of butter. We’d go to olive oil instead.”

I might disagree.

Skimming the cookbook a few weeks ago, I was compelled to try the recipes that intrigued me. Morash’s cheese-crowned Oven Asparagus Puff turned out to be a refined frittata. The Sweet Cabbage Strudel would make as elegant and memorable a holiday side as any I can think of. Each dish employs butter and, to my mind, is better for it.

Oven Asparagus Puff

4 servings

This is a slightly richer, possibly more elegant take on a frittata. Its crowning glory is a crust of Muenster cheese, which has mozzarella’s melting powers with a sharper, nuttier flavor to recommend it.

Consider putting mushrooms, spinach or broccoli in here for an alternate take. Serve as a light lunch or supper.

Peel and roll-cut asparagus (to taste; see NOTE, below) into 1-inch pieces. You should have 2 cups.

Melt 2 tablespoons of the butter in a saute pan over medium heat. Stir in the onion and cook for about 5 minutes, until softened.

Add the asparagus, sprinkle with the sugar and 1/2 teaspoon of the salt; stir-fry for 1 minute, then add the water, cover and cook for 1 to 2 minutes, moving the pan to keep the asparagus from sticking. (This step should brighten the color of the vegetable.) Uncover and cook for a few minutes, until the pan liquid has evaporated. Remove from the heat to cool slightly.

Whisk together the eggs, cream, the remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt and the pepper (to taste) in a mixing bowl.

Melt the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter in an ovenproof baking dish (10 inches square) set inside a larger skillet on the stove top, or in a 10-inch ovenproof skillet. Pour in the egg mixture and cook for about 3 minutes over medium heat until just the bottom has set.

Arrange the asparagus and onions in a single layer on top of the egg mixture. Transfer to the oven (if you used the baking dish, you can leave the skillet behind). Bake (middle rack) for 5 minutes, then remove from the oven to top the dish with the grated cheese. Return to the oven and bake for 15 to 25 minutes, until puffed and the cheese has lightly browned.

Serve right away.

NOTE: To roll-cut asparagus, give each spear a one-quarter turn as you cut it on the diagonal each time, into 1-inch sections. (The facets this creates will lend more texture to the dish.)

This is more sweet-and-sour than sweet, and it’s not a dessert, but it’s not entirely savory, either; in short, it’s a complete surprise, and an unforgettable one.

Make it part of a brunch spread, thinking of it as you might a kugel or blintz dish. You could also serve it as an appetizer. Best of all, add it to your holiday repertoire and bring out as a side dish for the holidays.

When you’re working with the phyllo dough, it’s best to keep it under damp paper towels.

1 tart apple, peeled and grated (can hold it in water to avoid discoloring)

5 cups shredded green cabbage (from 1/2 head)

1/4 teaspoon salt, plus more as needed

1/2 cup sour cream, plus more for serving

10 sheets phyllo dough (about 7 ounces; defrosted if frozen)

1/4 cup finely crushed dried bread or cracker crumbs

Heat the oven to 350 degrees. Use cooking oil spray to grease a baking sheet.

Place the raisins in a small bowl and cover with hot water; let sit for 10 minutes, then drain.

Melt the 4 tablespoons of butter in a large saute pan over medium heat. Stir in the sugar and lemon juice; cook for 2 minutes until the sugar has dissolved.

Stir in the apple, cabbage and 1/4 teaspoon salt. Cover and cook for 5 minutes, then uncover and increase the heat to medium-high; cook for 3 to 4 minutes, stirring, so much of the excess moisture evaporates.

Let cool slightly. Taste and season with more salt, as needed. Stir in the raisins and sour cream, then taste again for salt.

Place 1 sheet of the phyllo dough on a clean, damp kitchen towel. Brush with some of the melted butter, then sprinkle lightly with some of the crumbs. Repeat this layering 4 more times.

Spread half the cabbage mixture across a narrow end of the dough, leaving a 1 1/2-inch border on both sides and a 4-inch border on the top. First, fold in the side borders, then fold down the 4-inch border.

Use the edge of the kitchen towel to help guide/roll the filled phyllo into a log/strudel. Transfer it to the baking sheet, seam side down.

Repeat with the remaining butter, phyllo, crumbs and cabbage filling, to roll and create the second strudel. Transfer to the baking sheet, alongside the first strudel. Brush the tops of both strudel with any remaining melted butter.

Bake (middle rack) for about 40 minutes, or until the strudels are crisped and golden brown. Let cool for at least 5 minutes before cutting.

Chicken salad is timeless; chicken salad flavored with tarragon - or sometimes dill - and studded with nuts and fruit was a 1980s special. In this old recipe, Martha Stewart doubles down on the sweet-and-savory combination by serving her chicken salad on slices of nutty, cinnamon-spiced carrot bread. It was popular at parties, as an hors d’oeuvre.

She suggests grapes or apples as possible mix-ins and notes that cucumber or baguette rounds would make fine bases; endive boats or lettuce wraps would also work.

Serve on thin slices of Carrot Bread (see related recipe) or thin rounds of French bread or cucumber slices.

MAKE AHEAD: The chicken can be roasted, cooled and refrigerated 2 days in advance. The chicken salad can be refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 3 days.

Heat the oven to 375 degrees. Use some butter to generously grease one or two baking sheets.

Scatter the onion slices and a generous amount of herbs in the pan(s), then lay the chicken breast halves on top, skin side up, in a single layer. Sprinkle with lemon juice, then season lightly with salt and pepper. Roast (middle rack) for 30 to 40 minutes, or just barely done; the meat’s juices should run clear). Do not overcook. Let cool.

Shred the cooled chicken meat or cut into cubes or slivers and place in a mixing bowl, discarding the skin and bones. Add the tarragon and season lightly with salt and pepper, tossing to incorporate.

Stir together the sour cream and mayonnaise in a separate bowl, then add to the chicken a bit at a time to produce a salad that is creamy but not wet. Mix in more sour cream and mayonnaise, as needed.

Taste for seasoning, adding salt and/or pepper. Stir in the celery and the pecans, if using.

This is a quintessential slow-cooked, cold-weather comfort dish; it tastes like Sunday Roast. Once you’ve assembled all the ingredients and quickly seared off your meat, there’s little left to do. It practically cooks itself.

Season the short ribs generously with black pepper. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Heat the oil in a Dutch oven or heavy pot with a lid over medium heat. Once the oil shimmers, add the short ribs and brown them, 3 or 4 at a time, on all sides. Transfer them to a paper-towel-lined platter to drain as you work.

Return half of the ribs to the pot (off the heat). Scatter with half the garlic cloves, then layer half of each vegetable (the tomatoes and their juices, carrots and onions), in order, over the meat. Add 4 whole cloves and sprinkle with half the parsley. Repeat with remaining meat and other ingredients, ending with a layer of chopped parsley.

Stir together the vinegar, tomato paste, brown sugar, salt, the 1 teaspoon of black pepper and the cayenne pepper in a liquid measuring cup. Pour over the meat and vegetables and then add enough of the broth to cover.

Place over medium heat. Once the liquid starts to bubble, cover with the lid and transfer to the oven. Bake/cook (middle rack) for 1 to 1 1/2 hours, or until meat is very tender.

When Julee Rosso learned this cake was on the agenda, she suggested the raisins be macerated, which wasn’t part of the original recipe’s plan. She consented to adding salt to the batter, which may be standard baking practice now, but wasn’t something you did back in 1982. Although the authors specified a “chunk-style” applesauce and pureed it, we took a shortcut and used smooth applesauce. If you prefer a few small apple pieces, you can substitute chunky applesauce.

For the cake: Combine the raisins, orange juice and brandy in a small saucepan over medium-low heat; cook until the liquid begins to bubble slowly. Turn off the heat and let sit for 30 minutes. Drain and discard the liquid from the raisins.

Heat the oven to 325 degrees. Use some butter to grease a 10-inch tube pan, then add enough flour to coat, shaking out any excess.

Combine the butter and granulated sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer or handheld electric mixer; beat on medium speed for 3 or 4 minutes, until light and fluffy.

Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Stir in the applesauce and vanilla extract. Stop to scrape down the bowl.

Sift the flour mixture over the wet batter, then add the raisins, stirring gently until evenly distributed.

Pour the batter into tube pan; bake (middle rack) for about 70 minutes, or until a cake tester inserted into the cake comes out clean. Cool in the pan for 15 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack to cool completely.

Meanwhile, make the icing: Sift together the confectioners’ sugar and cinnamon into a small bowl. Dribble in the citrus juices, stirring constantly to form a smooth icing.